Hope White - Covert Christmas

He wanted to reach out but his arms were bound to a board of some kind. He must have looked panicked because she slid her hand into his and squeezed.

“We had to secure you to the litter so you’d remain as still as possible. We don’t want you losing any more blood than necessary. Okay?” She smiled.

“Okay,” he thought he said. Closed his eyes. Listened to the conversation around him.

“Why can’t they send a helo?” the woman said.

“No place to land up here. The ambulance is waiting,” a male voice answered.

“I’m afraid he’s losing too much blood.”

“His vitals are good.”

“Will they—”

“Bree, take a breath. He’s alive. You’re alive. All is well.”

* * *

Something pinched his arm. He opened his eyes. “What, ouch.”

“Hello, Mr. Smith,” a young female paramedic said. “I’ll call you Mr. Smith because we couldn’t find any identification and it seems more dignified than calling you Mr. Blue Eyes.” She sneered at the cute blonde woman standing on the other side of him.

Her name, he desperately needed to remember the blonde’s name.

“Are you allergic to any medications?” the paramedic asked.

“I don’t...think so.”

“Can you tell me what day it is?”

His gazed drifted past her to the lush forest in the distance. They were outside, surrounded by green. How did he get here again?

“Sir?”

He glanced at the paramedic, a twenty-something brunette with a tattoo of a butterfly on her neck. “It’s daytime.”

“Do you know what day it is?”

He glanced at the blonde beauty. She offered an encouraging smile. It didn’t help.

“How about your name?” the paramedic said.

“I told you he doesn’t remember,” the blonde said with an edge to her voice.

“Sir, do you know where you are?” the paramedic tried again.

“Mountains,” he gasped, hating the sound of his voice. Weak. Defeated.

“What city or state?” she asked, administering something into his IV.

“I... Washington?”

The blonde beauty offered a bright smile. He could look at those green eyes, that joyful smile all day long.

“Do you remember the trailhead or mountain you went climbing this morning?”

He glanced at the blonde. She started to mouth something.

“Bree!” the EMT scolded. “No cheating.”

“Sorry.” Bree put up her hands.

Bree, that’s right. A charming name.

“Okay, let’s get you into the ambulance.” The paramedic nodded at someone behind him. The stretcher shifted slightly, then he was lifted up into the ambulance.

“Bree,” he said, panicked. He reached out hoping to touch her again, feel her calming presence.

“It’s okay. I’ll meet you at the hospital,” she said.

He may not make it to the hospital. He didn’t know the brunette with the butterfly tattoo. He didn’t trust her.

“Bree.” He struggled to sit up.

“Easy there, Mr. Smith. You don’t want to pull out your IV.”

“Bree,” he croaked, desperate, trying to roll off the stretcher.

Suddenly she was beside him, holding his hand.

“Right there is fine,” the paramedic ordered Bree, then said to the driver, “Okay, Roscoe, let’s go.”

He turned his head to the left, needing to see Bree, look into her green eyes. Green like the forest. Her image started to blur again. He was losing focus, losing consciousness.

“I can’t... Bree...”

He closed his eyes, but felt her squeeze his hand.

“What’s happening to him?” she asked.

“It’s probably the pain meds,” the paramedic said.

“But he should stay conscious, shouldn’t he? Especially if he has a head injury?”

“Calm down, cuz. He’s stable. It’s all good.”

He was drifting in and out, picking up only pieces of conversation.

I couldn’t let him die.

Two gunmen?

He wasn’t with them; they were after him.

That was foolish.

I don’t care. He needed me.

You don’t even know him.

He squeezed her hand, struggling to stay connected, to stay conscious.

“It’s okay,” a woman whispered against his ear.

It was Bree’s voice. He’d know it anywhere.

He couldn’t remember his own name, where he’d been or how he’d ended up in an ambulance. Those three things should drive him to the brink of despair.

But they didn’t because Bree was here. He took a deep breath, clung to her hand and drifted.

* * *

“You’ve upset him,” Bree snapped at her cousin Maddie.

“Right, so it’s not the bullet wound or head injury that’s got him freaked out,” Maddie said, sarcastically. “Look, I shouldn’t have let you ride along in the first place, so stop busting my chops.”

“I’m worried about him.” She noted Mr. Blue Eyes’ skin looked pale.

“He’s not your problem.”

Bree ignored the comment and stroked the back of his hand.

“Bree?”

She glanced at her cousin, who frowned with concern.

“You didn’t see him, Maddie. He was so—” Bree glanced at the bruise forming around his head wound “—broken.”

Maddie reached over and touched Bree’s shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

With a nod, Bree glanced back at the stranger. They both knew Maddie’s words referred more to Bree’s terrible Thomas past than the current situation.

“He’s okay,” Maddie said, pausing as she unbuttoned his shirt. “Whoa.”

“What?”

“He’s got a lot of redness on his chest and stomach, like he was beaten up.”

They pulled up to the hospital.

“This is as far as you go, sorry,” Maddie said.

The back door opened. Two sheriff’s deputies stood there, along with Echo Mountain Police Chief Lew Washburn, and Wallace Falls Police Chief Charles Trainer, who Bree’s family fondly called Uncle Chuck.

Two officers and two police chiefs? Blue Eyes must be in big-time trouble.

“Bree,” he groaned, opening his eyes.

Maddie shot Bree a disapproving look.

“I’m here,” Bree said, squeezing his hand.

The other paramedic came around and helped Maddie lift the stretcher out of the ambulance. Blue Eyes didn’t release Bree’s hand.

Uncle Chuck approached. “Breanna, we need to—”

“I’ll be right back,” she interrupted.

She walked alongside the stretcher, offering words of comfort to Blue Eyes. “You’ll be okay. They’ll take care of you here.”

“Don’t leave.”

“I’ll stay close, promise.”

“You’ve got to let him go, Bree,” Maddie said as they wheeled him into the E.R.

Bree released his hand.

“No, Bree,” he gasped, and the look in his eyes nearly tore her apart inside. Pure and utter devastation coupled with fear. She’d seen that look...in the mirror.

She motioned for her cousin to stop the stretcher and Bree leaned close to the stranger. “I’ll be right outside. Let them fix you up so you can get out of here and do something fun.”

“With you?”

Bree shot a quick glance at Maddie and looked back at the stranger. “Sure.”

“You won’t leave me?”

“I won’t leave you.”

He released her hand and they wheeled him into the examining area. Bree automatically reached for her locket, praying for guidance. Had she done the right thing by making that promise? Of course she had, because it had calmed him down enough to release her and get much needed medical attention.

“Breanna?”

She turned to Uncle Chuck and Chief Washburn.

“Hey, hi, Uncle Chuck.” She gave him a hug. Chuck had been a friend for years and helped out after Dad had passed away.

They broke the hug and she nodded at Lew Washburn. “Hey, Chief.”

“Let’s sit down and you can give me your official statement.” Chief Washburn motioned her to the waiting area.